News, reviews, and commentary on the world of superhero comics from your favorite college professor (or me)

January 19, 2016

It's finally here, my long-promised book on Marvel Comics' Civil War storyline and my initial foray into self-publishing with Amazon's Kindle Direct, publishing on February 3 and available now for pre-order:is now being published by Ockham Publishing in print and ebook formats and is available for pre-order on Amazon:

From the promotional copy that someone other than me definitely wrote:

Comic book readers and moviegoers love to see superheroes fight, whether to protect innocent people from supervillains or to save the world from invaders from outer space. But superheroes also fight each other, and if we can look past the energy blasts and earth-shattering punches, we can find serious disagreements over principles and ethics. This was certainly the case when Captain America and Iron Man went head-to-head over liberty and security in Marvel Comics’ epic Civil War storyline, a fictional allegory to post-9/11 America (as well as the basis for the third Captain America film).

In his latest book, Mark D. White, author of The Virtues of Captain America and editor of Iron Man and Philosophy, carefully leads you through the ethical thinking of the three characters on the front lines of the Civil War:

Iron Man, who has taken charge of the US government’s efforts to register and train superheroes to enhance safety and security

Captain America, who leads the resistance against registration in the name of individual liberty and privacy

Spider-Man, who is torn between his two mentors and has a uniquely personal stake in the battle

In his characteristically light and humorous tone, White lays out the basic ethical foundations of each hero’s thinking and highlights the moral judgment each must use to put his ethics into action. He also explains how the Civil War affected the three heroes after the battle ended and how the experience continued to test them in very different ways as events in the Marvel Universe continued to unfold. Finally, he uses examples from Civil War to show how conflicting principles such as liberty and security must be balanced in the real world, lest both be lost.

Written in a style that will be easily accessible to those new to philosophy or superhero comics, A Philosopher Reads Marvel Comics’ Civil War will be a fascinating read for diehard comics fans and philosophy buffs as well.

I originally planned to focus on the larger political issues in the book, but then decided to change the focus to what I really enjoy writing about: the characters themselves. This allowed me to explore the three heroes' different ethical frameworks, the way each used his judgment to put their ethics into action, and how their choices affected them during the Civil War as well as afterwards. Iron Man had the longest arc, which carried him through World War Hulk, the Secret Invasion, Norman Osborn's "Dark Reign," and the Siege of Asgard. Cap's and Spidey's arcs following the Civil War were shorter, for different reasons, but are just as fascinating, with Cap's nicely dovetailing with Iron Man's during the Siege.

As you might guess from the title—and especially from the banner atop the marvelous cover designed by the incomparable S.L. Johnson, a wonderful collaborator and adviser on this project whose work you can see here—I have a mind to publish more A Philosopher Reads... ebooks on various superhero characters and storylines in the future. (The title was inspired by books like this and is meant to suggest that this is only one philosopher's reading of Civil War, and is in no way definitive, much less comprehensive.) I will continue to publish superhero-related books with traditional publishers when our interests coincide; I'm working on one at the moment and in discussions to do another. But the self-published ebook format allows me the freedom to write on whatever I want, regardless of the availability of "promotional moments" like films or TV series, and at whatever length I choose; A Philosopher Reads Marvel Comics' Civil War is the same length as The Virtues of Captain America, but future ones may be shorter if appropriate. (But my epic treatment of Green Arrow's classic Van Dyke will naturally be a three-volume set.)

The other person without whom I could never have done this is my intrepid copyeditor Louise Spencely, who also worked on The Virtues of Captain America and Superman and Philosophy. Not only does she find all of my embarrassing typos and unforgivable offenses to grammar, logic, and common sense, she also "gets" my style and voice and helps it come out more clearly. On the top of all this, she was invaluable to helping me format the manuscript for Kindle, not only on technical matters but also finding the most attractive font and layout. (You can learn more about her here.)

If you liked The Virtues of Captain America or my essays in various books in the Blackwell Philosophy and Pop Culture series, or if you love Civil War and these characters as much as I do, or even if you just like a little philosophy with your superheroes (or vice versa), please check out A Philosopher Reads Marvel Comics' Civil War: Exploring the Moral Judgment of Captain America, Iron Man, and Spider-Man and let me know what you think!

January 10, 2016

These days, comics companies love to leak big story details to the press, usually the day the comics hit the stands shops, and sometimes even the day before.

But today, Marvel Comics went several steps farther. In a piece in the New York Daily News written by a reporter "embedded" in an editorial retreat, not only did Marvel reveal that they will kill a major character in the Civil War II storyline coming this spring, but they also pulled the curtain back on the planning behind it, and in doing so, they showed an alarming amount of disregard for fans who are vested in these characters and this universe ("all-new and all-different" as it is)

The concept behind Civil War II is actually a very good one and seems like a worthy successor to the original Civil War (which I love and have written about quite a bit). As the article reveals:

“A mysterious new Marvel character comes to the attention of the world, one who has the power to calculate the outcome of future events with a high degree of accuracy,” according to the synopsis. “This predictive power divides the Marvel heroes on how best to capitalize on this aggregated information, with Captain Marvel leading the charge to profile future crimes and attacks before they occur, and Iron Man adopting the position that the punishment cannot come before the crime.”

That's a fantastic premise and, like the original Civil War, a very timely one. (Most importantly, I could write a lot about it!) It's interesting to ponder how they'll get futurist Tony Stark to reject a technocratic method of crimefighting, but that's what complex characters are for.

More specifically:

As the story unfolds this new seer predicts the hero in question will be the cause of a major incident of destruction in three days, requiring the other good guys to make a tough call. The writer just hasn’t figured what or how bad that cataclysm will be.

The article goes on to describe the process behind deciding which hero will cause the destruction and which will take that hero's life for it. After both Spider-Man and the Human Torch were proposed to be the inciting factor, Marvel editor-in-chief Axel Alonso and Civil War II writer Brian Michael Bendis found the perfect candidate. As the article says:

After hours of occasionally heated debate, Bendis and Alonso reveal they had a eureka moment during a 10-minute break and came up with the perfect superhero to sacrifice and an even better candidate to murder him. The answer actually gets a loud ovation from the crowd.

"A loud ovation." I'll just leave that there.

In terms of the process itself, none of this comes as a surprise to anyone who reads not only modern superhero comics but also the massive amount of news and leaks in the comics press (enough to choke Galactus after a cleanse). But it is unbelievable that Marvel Comics would be so brazen about revealing that this is how they make decisions, and with what glee they agree to kill a major character.

What sort of message was Marvel hoping to send with this article? "Look how cool we are, no one is safe, we can kill anybody anytime?" This isn't Game of Thrones, where most characters seem to have invented simply to die on another character's sword. If we're to take "major character" literally, then this will be a character that many fans around the world are vested in. That fans cosplay. That kids roleplay with action figures, video games, or such a towel tied around their necks. And that people like me write books about, mainly to inspire other people to read the comics and learn moral lessons from them.

(If anyone wonders why I write about superheroes themselves and their adventures, rather than the people who create the characters and the stories, as many traditional comics scholars do, this is one reason.)

Listen, I'm not naive. I've been reading comics a long time, and as I said before I'm glued to the comics news sites. By now I have a pretty good idea how these decisions are made. But to see one of the Big Two comics companies announce in a major newspaper to a wide readership how they make a decision to kill a major character, essentially bragging about how they do it... it's disturbing, to say the least.

I don't even have that much of a problem with how the decision itself was made, or why. Such a major death will certainly motivate the story, and they seem to have gone to some lengths to find a character whose death would fit the story. (Compare to Dan Didio's plans to kill Nightwing in DC Comics' Infinite Crisis... just because.) I would have liked a less obvious motivation, but these days, it's par for the course. (More on that later.)

But why would they reveal their thinking months before the storyline even starts? Duh, to get clicks and eyes, of course, but it seems like overkill: too much and too early. More generally, though, why would they let everyone know that they made the decision this way instead of maintaining the fiction that "the story dictates that this was the character who had to die"? The truth often comes out after a storyline is completed, and they make great little tidbits of trivia for diehard fans, like a "making of" featurette on a DVD. At that point, the story has had whatever impact it will have, and behind-the-scenes features are a nice little bonus for the fans without affecting how they read the story the first time. But to give these details out months before the story starts weakens any legitimate emotional weight the story might have had. Maybe it's just me, but I want to enjoy the story as a story before I know how and why it was made the way it was.

And this doesn't even touch on the question of whether using character deaths as a promotional selling point for comics is in good taste given recent events in the real world. That barn door has been open for a long time, but it would be nice if someone actually tried to close it. There are many brilliant creators in comics today, and don't tell me they can't find another way to motivate a story other than death.

Representatives of both the Big Two comics companies like to say how superheroes comprise our modern mythology. However, that also makes the Big Two the stewards of that mythology and the characters that ground it, and stewardship implies responsibility. Create characters, change characters, kill characters... they're all fine if done well, but please do so with a little more respect for those who want to revel in the mythology. Let us enjoy the show without telling us ahead of time where the strings are.

October 30, 2015

I clearly remember seeing the internet headlines on a Wednesday morning several weeks ago when the first issue of Nick Spencer and Daniel Acuña's Captain America: Sam Wilson was published, screaming about "Captain Socialism," which were joined later that day (naturally) by Fox News. The irony, of course, was that the alarm was completely unfounded, that all Sam Wilson said in the comics was that he planned to get more involved in politics than his predecessor Steve Rogers did (with all details given off-panel), and it was the press and the American public in the comic book that overreacted by accusing Sam of being anti-American, socialist, traitorous, etc. Were Spencer and Acuña engaging in a bit of playful trolling based on a too easily predictable real-world media reaction which they actually predicted in the same comic? (I hope so.)

Beneath the hype and hysteria, though, it remains that Sam Wilson is a different Captain America, forging a new path that diverges in some important ways from the one tread for decades by Steve Rogers. And even more impressive, Spencer and Acuña have achieved this distinction while staying true to Rogers' well-established characterization. (This contrasts with comments made by a previous creative team who, in the process of explaining the difference between Sam and Steve, oversimplified Steve's views to obscure the fact that Sam was going to be little more than a carbon-copy Cap with wings and a bird.)

Along the way to pointing out Sam and Steve's subtle differences, Spencer and Acuña also toy a bit with the segment of modern comics readership who like to jump to conclusions based on a handful of preview pages and solicitation text and fueled by internet speculation (and, in no small part, the marketing efforts of the comics publishers). Our creative team does so not only with Sam's internal dialogue but also in his exchanges with the dudebros seated on either side of him on an airplane, who take everything they read on Twitter to be the whole story and refuse to listen to Sam's mroe elaborate explanations. As Sam thinks to himself, "it's a complicated, messy story"—and Spencer and Acuña do a masterful job of peeling back the layers to this story (with many more still to be revealed, I'm sure).

The complicated and messy part I was most pleased to see dealt with the difference in Sam and Steve's moral perspectives, a difference which is nowhere near as simple or stark as the final scene of the first issue (or the cover of the second one) would have us believe.

Two scenes in Captain America: Sam Wilson #2 show this very well:

1. In these panels, a reporter asks Steve what he thinks about Sam's new political stance:

He simply nails it: Sam is his own Captain America and he can choose how to play that role, whether or not it's how Steve played it in his heyday or how he would play it now. Steve also struggled with the call to political activism in the past, such as when he wanted to support Andrew Bolt's congressional campaign (early in Mark Waid's Heroes Return run). His solution was to remain neutral as Captain America but work for the campaign as Steve Rogers (regardless of whether people knew they were one and the same—recall that he also made a big fuss about surrendering at the end of the Civil War as Steve Rogers, not Cap). Would Sam make that same decision? Perhaps not, but Sam is not Steve, and it was great to see Steve acknowledge that for the press (in the Marvel Universe as well as ours).

2. After SHIELD catches a man who released secret files describing a proposal to use Cosmic Cube fragments to make subtle changes to reality, Maria Hill makes clear she relishes the thought of submitting him to military tribunal. While Sam and Steve both oppose this project and personally make sure SHIELD scraps any plans to pursue it, they disagree on what should be done with the whistleblower (let's call him "Snedward Owden"), with Sam much more concerned about Hill's plans than Steve is.

Here we see Steve and Sam differ in terms of their confidence that the whistleblower will receive fair treatment and impartial justice at the hands of SHIELD and/or the military, and also their roles regarding the law (on which more below). Sam describes their essential difference of opinion the following page, an important yet nuanced disagreement that feels natural within the context of the two characters' backgrounds and which could lead to some fascinating character beats in future issues:

I could quibble a bit with Steve's statement above that "we don't get to put ourselves above" the law, especially after admitting his past civil disobedience to Sam (and emphasizing his willingness to be held accountable for it). Perhaps this is a result of Steve's official SHIELD role as chief of civilian oversight, just as his appointment as head of global security following the Siege of Asgard made him more assertive regarding Tony's exclusive use of the Iron Man armor (as seen in the first issue of Avengers Prime). Or maybe he feels it's his responsibility as chief of civilian oversight to monitor the tribunal, requiring a certain degree of faith in a process he'll be involved in. After all, unlike the registration act (and earlier government policies he regarded as unjust), he does not see any problem with military tribunals per se that warrants disobedience—especially if he's on the scene. Even if this does signal a shift in Steve's views, it is not a shocking or abrupt one. (This, of course, assumes that this is the same Steve Rogers we know from the 616 Marvel Universe, and not some New 52-style slight-of-hand where, post-Secret Wars, he's "basically the same character but different—just keep reading!" That remains to be seen.)

Only two issues into their run, Spencer and Acuña have fulfilled the hopes I had for Sam Wilson as Captain America since his "appointment" was announced. They've begun to give Sam a unique perspective on serving as Captain America that represents an interesting alternative view on the role that offers endless story possibilities, without watering down or stretching the concept of Cap itself beyond recognition. As well as further discussion with Steve, I hope we get to see some of Sam's internal struggles with his new stance, in which he questions how far Captain America can and should go in support of a particular position. This is not to say he shouldn't be more political than Steve was, but I would like to see him acknowledge and confront the fact that it is a different role for Captain America (rather than simply defending it to others).

Personally, this is the most excited I'm been about the Captain America title since Steve took up the shield after Bucky "died" during Fear Itself. (It's worth mentioning at this point that young James was a different sort of Cap too.) While a part of me longs to see Steve "enyouthened" and back in the star-and-stripes at some point, the rest of me looks forward to a long, insightful, and enjoyable run of Captain America: Sam Wilson from Spencer and Acuña.

August 7, 2015

Why do I feel inspired to write about only the movies I'm disappointed in? Maybe I worry I'll be too fanboy-ish about the movies I love and will fail to say anything insightful about them, sounding like Chris Farley meeting his idols on Saturday Night Live ("You know that movie you were in? ... That was cooool.") Hence, I've written nothing on Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Avengers: Age of Ultron, or Ant-Man (just to name a few), but plenty about Man of Steel... and now its aesthetic cousin, Fantastic Four.

[UPDATE: As has been pointed out to me, I did in fact write about Avengers: Age of Ultron. But it is rather fanboy-ish, isn't it?]

As you may know, I love the Fantastic Four; if you don't, I gushed about them recently over at the Cultural Gutter. Even though I avoided actual reviews of this movie, there was more than enough doubt in the air to dispel any hopes I had that I would be happy with it. I had the worst of expectations. As I told a friend yesterday, I couldn't not see it; I just had to know.

As I watched last night, in a local theater with about a dozen teenagers with nothing better to do on a Thursday evening—what a difference from early showings of other recent superhero flicks, which were packed with diehard fans—I couldn't help but think about Man of Steel. If it had been about any other superpowered person, Man of Steel would have been an interesting and entertaining movie—my problem with it was that the Superman it showed bore little resemblance to the Superman I believe in.

Fantastic Four, on the other hand, did no particular disservice to its characters, if only because they had very little character at all, and faced no tragic dilemma that would have revealed something about their heroic dispositions. This is no fault of the four lead actors, all of whom did the best they could with what they were given. What a horrible waste of talent this was, especially that of Miles Teller and Michael B. Jordan, who have both shone in other work. (And the less said about Doctor Doom, the better. At least he wasn't a blogger, as widely reported earlier.)

My issue with Fantastic Four wasn't the portrayal of the lead characters. It was simply a bad movie. Utterly lifeless, it had no discernible plot, and no drama or suspense—only when the denouement came did you know that the climax had passed. The dialogue was bland and cliched (and not even based on comic book cliches, beyond the awkward insertion of several beloved catchphrases, one introduced in a particularly depressing way).

Visually, it made Man of Steel look like Pee Wee's Playhouse—I don't think the color blue appeared once, much less any other primary colors. Even the other dimension they travel to was disappointing, a slight improvement on the alien sets from the original Star Trek series. (On a brighter note, the flame effect on Johnny Storm was very well done, and the Thing's appearance works better than I imagined, and for the first time in a movie you can see how he would inspire true fear and not just disgust or discomfort.)

As a concept, the Fantastic Four is supposed to be about wonder, adventure, and exploration, but there was none of that in this movie. It's also supposed to be about the relationships between the four members, but there was very little of that in this movie. And it is supposed to be fantastic—and there was definitely none of that in this movie.

P.S. Maybe this will lead people to reconsider the first two Fantastic Four movies, which were far from perfect but captured very well the playful and optimistic spirit of the comic (as well as simply being more entertaining.)

May 1, 2015

1. Loved it. It started like a Bond film with an intense action sequence, expertly shot in a similar fashion to the Battle of New York in the first film, with the focus flowing seamlessly from one character to the next, then calmed down as we saw the threat of Ultron building. Then it was off to the races again, only to be followed by setback, then regrouping for the final battle...

2. ...which was focused on SAVING ALL THE PEOPLE.

3. They SAVED ALL THE PEOPLE.

4. ALL OF THEM.

5. Ok, where was I... oh, right.

6. The focus on the six main Avengers seemed much more even this time, with Black Widow and Hawkeye getting more attention (especially with the surprise revelation that Hawkeye has been married to Velma all this time—no womanizing cad this Clint Barton).

7. I wish Black Widow hadn't been made the captured Avenger that had to be rescued, but that role was played by Hawkeye in the last film, and the others are too powerful. But still.

8. The humor was fantastic—I tried to remember all of my favorite lines but last track twenty minutes into the film. And they weren't all one-off gags: the running joke about Cap's early comment about "language" was fantastic. Even the scene from the preview with the Avengers trying to lift Mjolnir set up Vision's validation in the face of his new friends.

9. The new characters were integrated extremely well. The early antipathy of Quicksilver and the Scarlet Witch Pietro and Wanda towards Stark and the Avengers was easily motivated and then dispelled gradually. I was surprised not to see Pietro healing at the end of the film; Wanda was the more longstanding Avenger of the two in the comics, but nonetheless I liked their relationship in the film. And the Vision, wow...

10. The Vision was simply magnificent. One advantage of attending the first showing of the film was the number of diehard fans in the audience, all of whom applauded when Vision rose from his "cocoon." (Not to mention the gasps the first time Wakanda was mentioned.) Paul Bettany played Vision with the quiet dignity he deserved, and I can't wait to see him again.

11. I was a bit put off by Ultron's sense of humor, which is a distinct departure from the comics, but it grew on me, and made excellent use of James Spader's voice talents. And visually, he looked amazing.

12. Similar to Guardians of the Galaxy, teamwork was the focus of this film. The Avengers never really disassembled (even after Wanda's mindgames), so there was no need to rally at the end. I'm talking about the subtle, small types of cooperation, such as the one-two fight moves that Cap and Thor had obviously worked out in practice, and the way Clint and Natasha had each other's back throughout the film.

13. The cameos... well, I won't spoil those. There was Stan Lee, of course, but other MCU players made welcome appearances as well.

14. While the mid-credits bonus scene wasn't spectacular, it was gratifying to see the names of all the heroes—Avengers old, new, and "see ya next time"—in the main credits preceding it.

15. Tony, Tony, Tony... when will you learn? (What am I talking about? See my new post at the And Philosophy blog.) Also nice to see the continuing ideological differences between Tony and Cap referenced but not stressed (there's time for that in Captain America: Civil War).

16. I can't stress this enough: the last quarter of the movie was as much about getting all the people off of the floating city as it was about defeating Ultron. That's what the Avengers risked their necks to do. That's what Fury and Hill brought the helicarrier back for. That's what Clint almost died for—and Pietro did. It's sad that this kind of heroism is notable in a superhero movie, but in a Zack Snyder world, it is.

17. And did anyone fear for reality a little bit when Wanda lost it after Pietro died? I half-expected to see little Tetris pieces flying around.

18. And finally... Natasha and Bruce. I like it because it felt organic, and the scene in which she shares some of her Red Room background with him justified it even more. And of course, Bruce's "I can't be with you, I'm a monster" speech was well appreciated by this Thing.

To sum up, Avengers: Age of Ultron took advantage of the fact that it started with a team already assembled to jump head-first into the action and then spared no time in bringing the main threat to the stage. It was extremely well paced, with excitement, humor, and pathos throughout, and terrific performances by everyone involved. If this is Joss Whedon's farewell to the MCU, he couldn't have done a better job—this was a love letter to the Avengers, Marvel Comics, and to Marvel Zombies everywhere.

February 22, 2015

Before the spoilers, a general observation: I've been enjoying Bendis' X-Men books tremendously since he launched them following the Avengers vs. X-Men event. His talent at writing character moments and witty banter serves this property well, especially with the each of the two books focusing on a younger subset of the group (the Original Five in New X-Men and the new students in Uncanny X-Men). While I think he overstayed his welcome a bit on Avengers, he seems to leaving X-Men on a high note, for that I salute him (along with his uncanny artistic collaborators).

February 12, 2015

Nonetheless, just a quick post to point your swiping or clicking finger toward several items of potential interest:

I have a guest post at The Cultural Gutter, one of my favorite websites, recounting my experiences and impressions reading the entire run of Fantastic Four over the last year or so, along with some of my favorite panels from over 50 years of their comics (most of them seen on my Twitter feed over the past year—occasionally with snarky commentary, although mostly at Reed's expense).

Speaking of the Fantastic Four and Sue in particular, my latest post at Psychology Today deals with invisibility—mostly in a social, metaphorical sense, but I draw ties to the Invisible Woman, as well as a little-known hero with a modest cult following in some parts, Batman.

Finally, I want to recommend Jason Aaron and Jorge Medina's Thor #5 to anyone not currently following the adventures of the latest person worthy to wield the mighty Mjolnir. This is a quick one-shot between longer arcs that both refreshes the status quo for new readers, as well as, for longtime readers, establishes the various other characters' opinions regarding the new Thor, including Odin, Freyja, and, most entertainingly, the Absorbing Man and Titania, with whom Aaron and Medina indulge in a bit of metacommentary about fan reaction to our new Goddess of Thunder, both positive and negative. (See below.) Buy this issue now, or thou wilst be sorry -- I promise thee that.

November 21, 2014

Marvel's current crossover event, AXIS, involves various characters having their ethical orientation "inverted": heroes become villians and vice versa. A deceptively simple premise that has been used throughout the history of superhero comics—but rarely on this scale—it has potential for interesting stories (as well as culminating in "things will never be the same" changes to the status quo).

Ironically, however, it is precisely the aspect of Marvel's characters that makes them unique—their moral complexity and nuance—that confounds efforts to "flip" them from good to evil or from evil to good, resulting in strange adn confusing choices in storytelling and characterization.

There are very few characters in the Marvel Universe who are unambiguously good or evil: Captain America (that is, Steve Rogers) and the Red Skull, who are not among the inverted, are the two obvious exceptions. (There could be others too: for instance, I'd throw in Spider-Man, pure of heart but imperfect in execution, who interestingly was also not inverted.) The vast majority of the Marvel heroes and villains, however, are more complex, the heroes struggling against their more base natures and the villains striving to some degree to find redemption or achieve noble ends. But this complexity, a hallmark of Marvel Comics since the firm of Lee, Kirby, Ditko, and Associates dreamed them up in the 1960s, makes it diffiult to simply "flip" their moral characters. As a result, in AXIS we see a wildly inconsistent approach to inversions, especially regarding several heroes and one villain in particular.

Throughout this series and its tie-ins, I've been fascinated and frustrated by two characters in particular, Iron Man and Doctor Doom, whom I've long found to be very similar in their moral characters. Essentially utilitarian in their ethics, both pursue their personal visions of "the good" while believing that the ends justify the means. This leads Iron Man, for example, to take the controversial actions he took during Civil War in order to protect the superhero community, and leads Doom to try to take over the world, time and time again, because—as shown well in the miniseries Doomwar—he believes in his heart that only his rule can save humanity. Of course, both also have massive egos which serve to enable their extreme actions in pursuit of their singular visions, granting each the perception of entitlement, even the duty, to use their superior intelligence to save the world, damn the costs (as well as indulge personal vendettas and grudges along the way), and it is this arrogance which often foils their greatest ambitions (especially in Doom's case).

But after they are inverted during AXIS, these two similar characters are spun in completely opposite directions. Iron Man is portrayed as a mustache-twirling Snidely, teasing the citizens of San Francisco with an Extremis app that can make them "perfect" and then charging them $100 per day to maintain it. (This could be seen merely as leveraging an extremely attractive—and presumably legal—product for maximum revenue, but that sort of behavior often represents evil in popular fiction, and in any case is quite a departure from Tony's recent corporate altruism.) In other words, whatever restraints Tony Stark once felt on his pursuit of the good, for himself or for the world, have been removed. But this is not Tony "inverted"—this is Tony squared, Tony unleashed, his buffers removed, all second-guessing forgotten, resulting in even more of a caricature of himself than (according to some) in Civil War.

On the other hand, Doom has been all but neutered, now positively apoplectic about all the pain he caused his beloved citizens of Latveria, on whom he bestows democracy (by fiat, natch) before embarking on a program of making amends like a charter member of Villains Anonymous. The once proud and noble Doom simpers to Valeria Richards (daughter of Sue and Reed, currently living with Dad's greatest enemy in a delightful act of childhood defiance) about his need to right his past wrongs and also protect himself Latveria from an inverted Scarlet Witch who wants revenge for the events of Avengers Disassembled, House of M, and her wimple. (He had nothing to do with last one, but she could be understandably pissed about it all the same.) He even admits to Valeria—brace yourself, true believers—that Reed Richards has "always been right."

While Iron Man's "inversion" magnified his worse impulses, Doom's robbed him of his best. He either no longer seems to want to save humanity—a change that, in itself, hardly seems heroic—or he no longer feels he can do it and that the way he was doing it was incorrect—which is not an ethical change but an empirical one about methods. The thing that was evil about Doom was the steps he was willing to take to serve his goal of saving the world, but his nobility came from his sense of purpose and the moral lines he was not willing to cross (matters of honor such as truthfulness and keeping promises). Where he was once a fascinating man of extremes, now he's been reduced in both his ambition and his arrogance.

How interesting it would have been if, instead, Doom had been inverted into a traditional one-dimensional villain instead, using his brilliance to rob banks. Then, at least, the reader would have been led to ponder the true complexity of Doom's character and wonder if he was really a villain to begin with, and in what ways he was different from a hero like Iron Man. (At least they didn't make him an angry blogger.)

It seems that what the inversions did was not to flip the overall ethical orientation of the affected heroes—except in the most simplistic way possible, turning nuanced moral characters into one-dimensional caricatures—but merely flip the degree to which they perceived limits on their activity: for example, Iron Man sees fewer limits and Doom sees more. Apart from Tony and Vic, the Scarlet Witch indulges her desire for revenge against Doom; the all-new Captain America (Sam Wilson) still fights crime, but more like the Punisher than he did as the Falcon; and the X-Men become very pro-active against humanity (making Cyclops look like Gandhi). None of them has become a villain per se, but simply less traditionally heroic by virtue of crossing lines that once they refused to cross.

The main idea of AXIS is to flip heroes and villains along the "axis" of good and evil. But given the complexity granted to most of the Marvel characters by their creators, and maintained over the years out of dedication to that vision, there is no simple axis to be found. Most Marvel characters express their heroism or villainy in nuanced and multifaceted ways, so there are many axes along with they can be inverted. For example, they can be flipped in one aspect of them (such as what remained of Tony's restraints on his pursuit of goals), flipped along more than one of them (such as Doom's loss of ambition and arrogance), or reduced to a simple black-and-white caricature (such as the Scarlet Witch of Vengeance).

Of course, the "fuzzy" method of inversion in AXIS may have been part of the creators' plan—it did result from a magical spell, after all, and magic is known for its unpredictability. But I think some great story possibilities were missed by not considering what truly makes the various Marvel characters heroes or villains—or both.

1. Ever since this was hinted several weeks back, I've thought about it in terms of two issues: who becomes the new Cap, and why are they replacing Steve Rogers at all. The first is a no-brainer, and personally I'm thrilled to see Sam as the next person to wield the shield. I think this a win all around: it flows naturally from the story Rick Remender has been telling, and Sam is the natural successor to Steve (given that Bucky already had a shot), having been his crime-fighting partner and close confidante for years. Furthermore, it helps to diversify the Marvel line in the same way that the female Thor does, which I only hope will be justified and motivated in-story as well as Sam's ascension is. (The same issues with legacy that I expressed in my Thor post hold, even though there have been almost as many different Caps as Thor has had helmets.)

2. The bigger issue for me is: why is Steve Rogers being replaced again so soon after he came back from "the dead" several years ago? (It seems like yesterday, but possibly that's because I have no life.) There are a number of possible reasons.

First, it may have been motivated for the express purpose of putting Sam in the red-white-and-blues. Nothing wrong with that, though it does seem to make Steve Rogers disposable and imply that Sam Wilson can't be made a more prominent fixture in the Marvel Universe as the Falcon—which, after all, is an original, nonderivative superhero identity without "Black" in the name, and something I think should be celebrated.

Second, it may be part of a larger character arc for Steve Rogers—in much the same way that Rhodey first served as Iron Man during Tony Stark's fall and rise from the depths of alcoholism, only to have Tony reclaim the armor when he was all better—but this would diminish Sam's stature as a "true" successor as Captain America and make him little more than a placeholder. He would get his moment in the sun, true, but he deserves better.

Third, it may simply be a "hail mary" on the part of the creators. I've found Remender's run to be less than inspiring after an impressive start, and this may have been the best Cap story they could come up with. If I remember correctly, Cap has been "depowered" twice since he was reborn, and that well has run dry—which leads me to think this was motivated by one or both of the reasons above (or simply a desire to mix things up, as I'll discuss below).

3. Let's abstract away from the new Cap and talk about Marvel in general. In my post on the new Thor I expressed my suspicions that all of these abrupt changes in major characters were leading to a Marvel reboot down the road. Maybe it's not, and many if not all of these changes will be reversed in a year or so. Regardless of how long these changes stay in place, however, and no matter how much I support each of these changes individually and look forward to the stories that can be told with them, taken together they reek of the same desperation that led DC to reboot their universe three years ago: short term shock to goose sales. As Brevoort says in the interview announcing the New Cap, “Change is one of the watchwords of the Marvel Universe, so there are even more startling surprises to come!” This sounds to me like "change for the sake of change," which I regard as a shortsighted alternative to solid, innovative storytelling rooted in the rich history of beloved characters.

But I'm not running Marvel Comics, and I'm no expert on what sells comics to the majority of current fans (or the elusive "new fans" they hope to elicit). Maybe current readers want rapid change that keeps them on the toes. Maybe they don't have the same appreciation of decades of continuity and character development that we old fogeys have. DC certainly seems to have banked on that, and even though their editorial and PR problems of late are well documented, few of them seem to deal directly with lost continuity. As long as Marvel avoids a total reboot, they will retain that history that many fans love, and will also be adopting a concept of legacy similar to what DC had before the New 52 (as I discussed in the last post). This may be inconsistent with the appreciation many longtime fans have for the characters, but may appeal more to new ones. (I don't know.)

Again, I sincerely hope I'm wrong. After all, look at the Superior Spider-Man, which exceeded almost everyone's expectations in terms of storytelling, after which (to me, at least) Peter Parker as Spider-Man once again seems almost blasé. Fantastic stories were told of Bucky Barnes when he served as Captain America, and I hope the stories of Sam Wilson as Captain America (and the new Thor) will be just as good. At the end of the day, there are two things that matter to me: story and character. If good stories are told that respect the characters and develop them organically, I'll be the happiest fan knocking down the door of my local comics shop every Wednesday morning. But with Marvel right now (or "Right NOW!"), it just seems like too much all at once, and that worries me.

July 16, 2014

Recently it was announced—on "The View," of all places—that the next person found worthy to wield the power of Thor in the Marvel Universe would be a woman, after the current Thor is judged unworthy. (See here for the best write-up I've found, including an interview with writer Jason Aaron and EIC Axel Alonso.) Predictably, the comics internet went crazy, with some fans excited and supportive of the move and others very upset, many of them angry that "their Thor" could possibly be a woman.

After following the news and conversation all that day, I want to offer a few random thoughts.

1. It's a bold move on the part of Marvel Comics and I think it's a positive one. Those of us in comics fandom who want a more diverse range of characters would of course prefer that new, nonderivative female characters would be created and promoted, but we also realize the reality of the marketplace and how difficult that is. Personally, I would love to see Sif or Valkyrie put forward more—and to Marvel's credit they have tried—but it may be the case that the best way to diversify the line is substitute women and other minorities for established characters (as they did so well with Miles Morales) and hope that over time they establish themselves as beloved and independent iterations. (From what I've seen, few consider Miles to be a replacement but a fascinating character in his own right.)

Furthermore, there is a tradition of the current Thor losing his "worthiness" and the mantle being passed to another character, such as Beta Ray Bill (a horse-faced character for people like me to identify with), and we all know that Thor himself became a frog for a spell (after which an independent Frog-Thor was created, because you demanded it!). A female Thor was a natural next step in the evolution of the Thor mythos (just like I believe Sam Wilson-as-Cap is), and it allows the current Thor to go through a redemption storyline. I have no doubt the current Thor will come back, but as long as good stories are told in the meantime, I'm all for it. (And this is Jason Aaron, one of my favorite writers in the medium right now, so I have no doubt the stories will be fantastic.)

2. I think another reason this change is being met with skepticism—aside from issues with the character's gender—is that Marvel does not have an established traditon of legacy in the same way that DC does (or did before the New 52). There have been a number of Flashes, Green Lanterns (even just counting the Sector 2814 ones), Robins, and even Batmen. In particular, Wally West and Kyle Rayner served as "the" Flash and Green Lantern, respectively, for over a decade after their predecessors "went away," and a large contingent of fans embraced them, largely because their characters were more fleshed out than Barry Allen and Hal Jordan were at the time. While they were beloved, Barry and Hal's original adventures were mostly about using their powers to fight bad guys, not explore their deepest character traits, which made them relatively easy to replace with new people that, given the times in which they were introduced, were explored in more depth.

But when the Marvel heroes were created (or defrosted) in the 1960s, they were instilled from the get-go with well-defined character traits that served to make their superhero identites indistinguishable from their "real" identities. So even though there have been others to use the names, many fans don't see them as the authentic versions. With all due respect to Bucky and Rhodey, Steve Rogers is Captain America and Tony Stark is Iron Man because Steve and Tony's personalities are as much a part of the identities of Cap and Shellhead as are the shield and the armor. (Even in DC, the trinity of Superman, Batman, and Wonder Woman have become inseparably tied to Clark/Kal, Bruce, and Diana, but few others have.) And Thor takes this even further because Thor is his given name—there is no difference between the hero Thor and the "civilian" Thor (now that Don Blake has been rendered irrelevant). (Apparently the current Thor will go by a different name after he is "deposed," but even that highlights how odd this transfer of title is.)

This doesn't mean that "mantles" can't be passed on in the Marvel Universe, but merely that replacing Thor or Cap has more impact—and receives more resistance aside from issues of gender and race—than it would in DC, where multiple generations of heroes was once a grand tradition.

3. Who will be the new Thor—and who should it be? The safe bet is that it will be Angela, newly revealed to be Thor and Loki's sister. Less likely, it could be Valkyrie, another natural choice for her longlasting popularity and close ties to Asgardian lore, or Jane Foster, who recently moved to Asgard as an emissary from Midgard (Earth) and is suffering from cancer (which could be cured with the Odinforce, even though she doesn't want this). My ideal choice would be Sif, who seems to be the natural successor to the current Thor just as Sam Wilson is the natural successor to Steve Rogers (after Bucky had his shot). (As for hair color, I have it on good authority that people can change their hair color, especially if they undergo a transformation to become the Norse God of Thunder.)

4. Finally and most speculatively, I can't help but think that so many major changes at once—new Thor, new Cap, newly dead Wolverine, possible cancellation of the Fantastic Four—are increasing the odds that there is some sort of reboot coming at Marvel after this "Time Runs Out" business coming in the Avengers titles. I may be wrong, and I really hope I am, but it seems that the powers-that-be at Marvel are playing with their favorite toys one last time, taking bold chances with them, before they get all new ones. They've done radical things before—killing Cap, replacing Peter Parker, taking Dazzler seriously—but now they're doing a lot of it all at once, and frankly it worries me. Again, I hope I'm wrong, because I love the Marvel Universe and its rich history that, for the most part, the creators there respect.